Mama and the pizza…

Mama and the pizza…

A little Friday “flashback”…originally printed in My Southern Heart…the Stories

It was the late 1950′s. We were living in the small house on Victor Drive with the sunny windows and the knotty pine dining room with two built-in corner china cabinets.

It was a time of early rock and roll, dancing and pizza. Our first introduction to pizza was from George, a big, strong, dark-haired cajun planter from Louisiana. All these years later, and I remember George Broussard like it was yesterday. He was Glenda’s boyfriend and Glenda was Dot’s best friend. So we all spent a lot of time together in that little house on Victor Drive.

George had a booming voice and a great laugh. His conversation was sprinkled with a few cajun words here and there, and he loved to kid Mama. One weekend, he brought a large, filled-to-the-brim pizza over for lunch. We’d never even seen a pizza. I have to admit, at first glance, I had my doubts. All these years later, I’ve had the best Chicago pizza in downtown Chicago…so I’d have to say I know good pizza. I don’t know where George got it, but that was some pizza! Mama took one look at it and had her doubts too. It, obviously, wasn’t Southern vegetables and cornbread. She almost didn’t try it, but she did…and she fell in love with George’s pizza. The best I recall all these years later, I’d say it was a thin-crust, SUPREME pizza and it was, indeed, delicious.

Quite frequently after that, George would arrive with Glenda on his arm and toting another gift for Mama…a pizza supreme. I’m not sure George ever knew that Mama became a serious pizza fan after that. She would make it from scratch from time to time; but when she was in a hurry, she’d resort to Chef Boyardee.  Not too sure George would have approved of that…


Added note:  Memories are a funny thing.  I wrote this post a few years ago and, since then, I’ve been trying to pinpoint the year(s) more accurately.  It could have been the early sixties, because I remember that George and Glenda gave me a pair of really nice charcoal gray pants from the Clothes Horse on Poplar Avenue for graduation in 1963!  Just don’t ask me what I did yesterday!

 To find the recipe for the delicious King Arthur flour pizza pictured above, go here.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...
About Dianne Allen

Although I am a true Southern Heart (I was born in Mississippi and grew up in Tennessee), I also love the Prairie, and that is where I am now.

I am a mother of three grown children - two wonderful sons and an amazing, beautiful daughter. I am a grandmother of nine - two grandsons and seven granddaughters. If you were to ask my grandchildren: they would tell you that "being a grandmother is what I do and that nothing in this world could keep me from it".


  1. That’s a good story. I think it was in the early 1960s before our family tried pizza here in the Cincinnati area. I also wasn’t sure about it at first, but was won over. I don’t know what we’d do now without pizza.

I love comments!

%d bloggers like this: